1967 - In the Heat of the Night

My first earthquake and my first hurricane all in the same week! While my earthquake experience merely consisted of feeling the building wobble for a few seconds, I suspect Hurricane Irene may cause a slightly larger impact. We are not in the evacuation zone, but to prepare for the impending storm, Kat and I have stocked up on groceries and have a "go bag" ready. There is one dilemma, though. The authorities tell us to stay indoors and keep clear of the windows to avoid potential flying debris. Since we live in such a small apartment, that essentially means we may have to sleep in the bathtub. But they also say to fill the bathtub in order to have water with which to flush the toilet in the event that the plumbing is shut off.

Kat and I are now preparing for the longest bath-time in history.

The Academy's pick for Best Picture of 1967 is our next film to go under the microscope...

In the Heat of the Night
Director:
Norman Jewison
Screenplay:
Stirling Silliphant
(based on the novel by John Ball)
Starring:
Sidney Poitier, Rod Steiger, Warren Oates, Lee Grant, Larry Gates, James Patterson, William Schallert, Beah Richards
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
5 wins, including Best Picture and Best Actor (Steiger)

When a dead man is discovered in the wee hours of the morning in Sparta, Mississippi, the police chief, Bill Gillespie (Steiger), orders Sergeant Sam Wood (Oates) to sweep the town for suspects. Waiting at the train station is a black man, Virgil Tibbs (Poitier), who quickly becomes suspect number one. Gillespie's suspicions prove unwarranted, however, when it becomes clear that Mr. Tibbs (for that is what they call him) is actually a police officer himself - a homicide detective, no less. When Gillespie confirms this with Tibbs' superior in Philadelphia, Tibbs is ordered to stay in Sparta to help the small town police force with their investigation. Neither man is particularly happy with that arrangement, but the two reluctantly work together, which often consists of Gillespie asserting his certainty of a suspect's guilt before Tibbs explains how he's wrong. With racial tensions high amongst the town's residents, Tibbs must try to stay safe while earning Gillespie's respect.

'Tense' is the first word that comes to mind when viewing In the Heat of the Night. Not only are there several moments of potential (and actual) violence that keep you on the edge of your seat, plus a genuinely absorbing police procedural storyline, but the main thrust of the narrative - that of the relationship between a white Southern police chief and a black city-dwelling homicide detective - is a particularly intense display of mutual obstinacy. The two men butt heads consistently, staring each other down with glassy eyes on many occasions. The film's languidly rousing music is the perfect complement to this tension - including the sultry theme song sung by Ray Charles - yet is used sparingly, allowing the tensest scenes to cleverly remain unscored.

Perhaps my only major criticism of the picture is the final moment. The gripping tension of the previous couple of hours deserves a better climax than the somewhat cheap smiles that Tibbs and Gillespie present to each other as Tibbs leaves. Sure, they have developed a mutual respect now, we get that. But I think I would have preferred a simple understated nod that at least acknowledges the history of their strained relationship rather than the Hollywood-style all-is-forgiven wrap-up that comes across as a little cheesy and unnecessary, especially considering it takes place in the space of about ten seconds. Not that Poitier's and Steiger's smiles are overstated by any means, so perhaps I'm being too harsh. It could have been a lot worse. After all, they don't actually confess their feelings in words. I suppose I just like my touching conclusions to be as subtle as possible.

Sidney Poitier's strong presence is perfect for the bullheaded Virgil Tibbs, but he unfortunately missed out on an Oscar nomination. Not so, Rod Steiger, whose gum-chewing grumblebum with the yellow-tinted sunglasses is a brilliantly fascinating portrayal to watch, very much deserving of his Best Actor win. The supporting players' performances border on stereotypical small-town hicks, but they all serve their purpose well. Beah Richards, who played Poitier's mother in the same year's Guess Who's Coming To Dinner, is superb here as a sassy back-room abortionist.

1967 - The Graduate

I am now back in New York City, happy to be home with my beautiful wife once more. After months of sporadic trips to various parts of the country for work, it is nice to be settled in again. It makes for a nice change. Speaking of change (see what I did there?), you may have noticed some slight additions to the website. In a bout of enthusiasm, I created a Google AdSense account to see if this silly little hobby of mine might actually earn me some pocket money. The enthusiasm continued when I also became an Amazon Associate, allowing to me offer product links to DVDs and perhaps other appropriate items. With a recent (minor) increase in this blog's traffic, I thought I would try these things out and see how it fares. So, if you see anything interesting, go ahead and click, and I might make one-third of a cent. No need to worry, though, dear reader. Matt vs. the Academy is not going anywhere. Whether or not this little experiment is successful, the Best Picture nominee reviews will continue.

For purposes more practical and less greedy than those above, I've also added links to make it easier to subscribe to this blog, as well as to share it with your friends. In the sidebar on the right, you'll find ways to subscribe to posts and/or comments through the blog reader of your choice, or you can submit your email address to receive each post by email. Plus, at the bottom of each post, there is now a row of lovely social networking buttons.

Whew! With that administration out of the way, let's get to the next review, a classic Best Picture nominee from 1967...

The Graduate
Director:
Mike Nichols
Screenplay:
Calder Willingham and Buck Henry
(based on the novel by Charles Webb)
Starring:
Anne Bancroft, Dustin Hoffman, Katharine Ross, William Daniels, Murray Hamilton, Elizabeth Wilson
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
1 win, for Best Director

The graduate of the title is Benjamin Braddock (Hoffman), recently returned from college without a clue as to what to do with his life. His parents (Daniels & Wilson) are throwing him a graduation party and all their friends have suggestions for his future. One word: plastics. One of his parents' friends, Mrs. Robinson (Bancfroft), has a more deviant idea. She persuades Benjamin to drive her home after the party and, once inside, proceeds to seduce him. A flustered Benjamin rejects her advances but, several days (or perhaps weeks) later, his boredom and loneliness and curiosity get the better of him and he calls Mrs. Robinson to take her up on her sordid offer.

The two begin a secret affair. Soon, however, Benjamin is unsatisfied with the purely physical nature of their relationship and wants to have an actual conversation with Mrs. Robinson. That turns out to be not such a good idea, after all. Their conversation quickly turns into an argument when Mrs. Robinson gets rather agitated at the idea of Benjamin taking out her daughter, Elaine (Ross), a thought that had never crossed his mind until she made him promise not to do it. Naturally, when Elaine visits during a college break, Benjamin's parents pressure him into asking her out and he reluctantly obliges. Benjamin's idea of sabotaging the date by taking Elaine to a strip club fails miserably and he finds himself in the extremely complicated situation of falling in love with his lover's daughter.

The Graduate is undeniably a product of the 1960s. The groovy decor and fashion, the hippie music from Simon & Garfunkel, even the prolific use of the zoom lens. In fact, in his sophomore film as director, Mike Nichols - who had made Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? only one year earlier - makes good use of his camera, presenting us with some uniquely artistic visuals. Sometimes, we see characters through their reflections on a coffee table. Other times, we see characters talking but are unable to hear their words due to loud music or crowds. We feel Benjamin's isolation through a POV shot as he scuba dives into a backyard swimming pool. We feel his confinement through the now very famous shot of his body literally trapped in the frame by Mrs. Robinson's leg. Then, there is the rapid-fire series of brief shots when Mrs. Robinson presents her naked self to Benjamin, a sequence oddly reminiscent of the shower scene in Hitchcock's Psycho.

Clearly, The Graduate was written as a comedy. But what's interesting is that, despite the genuinely funny script, Nichols and the cast don't overplay it. Quite an achievement since there are some very jokey jokes in there, which would be just as at home in a Marx Brothers movie. Dustin Hoffman remains deadpan when given just one strange word of advice, "plastics". Nor does he mug when inadvertently uttering a sexual pun, "wood". And he is very much sincere when suggesting his plan of marrying Elaine is "completely baked".

This restraint is incredibly effective, allowing the film to comment on social issues with honesty. Indeed, The Graduate captures the feeling of uncertainty that is the fate of people like Benjamin Braddock, who are stepping into the real world for the first time after a lifetime of school, a feeling that probably hasn't changed all that much since the 60s. The final few minutes of the film are particularly captivating. We cheer on Benjamin and Elaine as they frantically jump on a bus laughing and smiling, on a high from their exhilarating and spontaneous moment of defiance. The camera lands on the two sitting at the back of the bus, still smiling as they look behind them at the aftermath of their actions. But the shot lingers. And their smiles slowly fade. And it is a wonderful summing up of the whole film. Three words: what happens now?

As mentioned, rising star Dustin Hoffman carries the film with understated perfection, earning his first Oscar nomination. Remaining subtle in the face of farcical elements seems to work well for him (see Tootsie). Anne Bancroft, also nominated, succeeds as the nonchalant cougar. (Iinterestingly, she was only six years older than Hoffman.) The film's third nominee, Katharine Ross, is movingly gentle. Also of note are William Daniels as Benjamin's well-intentioned father and Murray Hamilton (last seen here in Jaws) as the cuckolded Mr. Robinson. Finally, two bit part players have gone on to bigger and better things. Mike Farrell, famous for M*A*S*H, appears very briefly as a bellhop. And also from Jaws - amongst many, many other things - that's Richard Dreyfuss as the boarding house resident eager to call the cops.

----------------------------------------------
Support Matt vs. the Academy and buy:
The Graduate on DVD
The Graduate on Blu-ray
The Graduate on Instant Video
----------------------------------------------

1967 - Bonnie and Clyde

Another show is over. The final performance of The 39 Steps at the Bristol Valley Theater came and went today, and I am currently packing up and getting ready to head back to New York City tomorrow. And for the first time this year, I do not have any immediate plans for any upcoming performing ventures. With an improv show in Las Vegas, an off-off-Broadway show in New York, a short film in Delaware and a play in Naples, it's been a busy year so far. Let's hope the next project is just around the corner...

Next up in the review of 1967's Best Picture nominees is...

Bonnie and Clyde
Director:
Arthur Penn
Screenplay:
David Newman & Robert Benton
Starring:
Warren Beatty, Faye Dunaway, Michael J. Pollard, Gene Hackman, Estelle Parsons, Denver Pyle, Dub Taylor, Evans Evans, Gene Wilder
Academy Awards:
10 nominations
2 wins, including Best Supporting Actress (Parsons)

It's the Great Depression and young Clyde Barrow (Beatty) is fresh out of prison for armed robbery. While attempting to steal a car, he is interrupted by the pretty Bonnie Parker (Dunaway). The two hit it off right away and, before you know it, they're planning bank robberies. At a gas station in the middle of nowhere, they pick up oddball C.W. Moss (Pollard), who agrees to join them on their criminal escapades. Soon, the gang grows in number again with Clyde's older brother Buck (Hackman) and his reluctant wife Blanche (Parsons). As their robberies become more violent, Bonnie and Clyde begin to attract the attention of law enforcement as well as the national media, who turn them into infamous superstars.

Bonnie and Clyde doesn't waste any time up front. The beginning moves at a swift pace with our two heroes (or, more accurately, anti-heroes) meeting in the first scene and running away together almost immediately. Even their first recruit, C.W. Moss, doesn't seem to require much time to think things through. He steals from his boss and hops into Bonnie and Clyde's car after knowing them for less than a few minutes. With such a fast-paced set-up, there is little time to familiarise ourselves with the situation but, since the couple's life subsequent to their meeting is very much the whirlwind, the speedy first act is actually quite appropriate, not to mention exciting.

What makes the story particularly interesting is its central relationship. In fact, it would be reasonable to describe the film as a story about a unique relationship, rather than a story about Depression-era bank robbers. Sure, they are bank robbers and this certainly plays a role in their relationship, but the film is clever to focus on how Bonnie and Clyde interact and grow. It is a fascinating affair - Clyde suffers from some kind of sexual dysfunction and Bonnie is bothered by the resultant lack of intimacy. In fact, with the gang always around, the two rarely find themselves alone, so it is more than merely sexual intimacy that they are forgoing.

Then there is the issue of celebrity. The newspapers write sensational stories about them, attributing far more robberies to their name than they actually committed. The hype reaches such heights that even their surviving victims are excited to be swamped by photographers and journalists listening to their tales. It seems this craving for a good story at the expense of the truth is not just a modern predicament.

Bonnie and Clyde is one of several films to share the record for the most acting nominations among its cast. Five actors received nods, the first such acknowledgement for each of them. The picture's two stars, Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway (pictured), both up-and-comers at the time, work well together, delivering a convincing portrait of the infamous couple. Michael J. Pollard snagged his only Oscar nomination in the Supporting Actor category for his suitably quirky portrayal of C.W. Moss. In the same category, Gene Hackman - who barely looked any different then than he does now - was recognised for his fine work as Buck Barrow. The only winner of the five was Estelle Parsons, who nabbed the Supporting Actress award for one of the most annoying characters ever to appear on screen. Blanche's constant screeching and complaining are played with delectable perfection by Parsons. And then there's Gene Wilder, appearing in his film debut. Wilder's piteous persona and unique delivery are superbly applied to his role as the undertaker that Bonnie and Clyde kidnap for a brief time.

----------------------------------------------
Support Matt vs. the Academy and buy:
Bonnie and Clyde on DVD
Bonnie and Clyde on Blu-ray
Bonnie and Clyde on Instant Video
----------------------------------------------

1967 - Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

The 39 Steps has opened and is as much fun as it is exhausting. My lovely wife Kat came to visit on the weekend to see the show and take in Naples' sights, which consist mainly of quaint places to eat. With a couple of days off before we head into our final week of shows - yes, it's a very short run - some of the cast and crew took to the local vineyards for some wine tasting yesterday. Let me just say that I'm glad we didn't have a show yesterday...

While Kat was here, we watched the first of the nominees from 1967's Best Picture race...

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner
Director:
Stanley Kramer
Screenplay:
William Rose
Starring:
Spencer Tracy, Sidney Poitier, Katharine Hepburn, Katharine Houghton, Cecil Kellaway, Beah Richards, Roy E. Glenn
Academy Awards:
10 nominations
2 wins, for Best Actress (Hepburn) and Best Original Screenplay

With an undoubtedly topical subject matter for 1967, Guess Who's Coming To Dinner takes place in the home of the Draytons, Matt (Tracy) and Christina (Hepburn), over the course of one principle-testing evening. Their sweet young daughter, Joey (Houghton), is excited to be bringing home the man she fell in love with while on a recent trip to Hawaii. The only thing is: he's black.

While Joey is oblivious to any potential problems, her new fiancé, John (Poitier), is a little more circumspect, aware that his new in-laws may be shocked by the interracial affair. He respectfully explains to Matt and Christina that, unless they wholeheartedly approve of his marrying their daughter, he will walk away, adding that he will need an answer before he flies to Europe after dinner. Christina is for the idea, but, despite his mostly liberal attitude, Matt has a few reservations. As if the time pressures weren't enough, Matt is also forced into the role of host when Joey spontaneously and naively invites John's parents (Richards & Glenn) over, despite John's desire to break the news to them himself.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner is a very endearing film with very endearing characters. While I'm sure interracial marriage is still taboo in many areas, the issue is certainly not as shocking as it was over 40 years ago. Back then, I imagine the film may not have seemed so endearing, or at least, the endearing tone would have been offset somewhat by the story's tackling of the tough social issues of the day. Modern audiences, however, may even describe the film as quaint. Having said all that, it is still abundantly clear how serious the issue is to the characters within the film and the whole subject is dealt with delicately and earnestly.

Featuring such an abundance of dialogue, one would be forgiven for assuming the picture is an adaptation of a stage play. Not to mention that the action takes place predominantly in one location over the course of one evening. However, William Rose wrote the script directly for the screen, winning the Academy's Best Original Screenplay award in the process. His script is at times farcical, at times sentimental, but never too much of either. And while there is obviously a sincere message, Rose cleverly manages to maintain a lighthearted attitude, mostly through the creation of such lovable characters.

Indeed, the characters' lovableness must also be attributed to a cast who deliver some delightful performances, particularly by frequent co-stars Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn (pictured). As the doddering old father, Tracy is affable, even when he's harsh. This marked his final screen performance and he was deservedly Oscar-nominated for it. Hepburn picked up her second Best Actress Oscar for her sweet and moving portrayal of the respectful mother and voice of reason. Surprisingly left off the nomination list was Sidney Poitier (who also wasn't cited for his other significant role in the same year from In the Heat of the Night - perhaps these two performances split the vote). Nonetheless, he is charming and engaging as the impossibly honest fiancé. As the happy-go-lucky daughter, Katharine Houghton is a little cheesy, but I suppose her character is intended to be naive and cheerful. Nominated in the supporting categories were Cecil Kellaway, delivering an entertaining portrayal of the Draytons' clergyman friend and Beah Richards, turning in a strong and touching performance as John's mother.

----------------------------------------------
Support Matt vs. the Academy and buy:
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner on DVD
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner on Instant Video
----------------------------------------------

Best Picture of 1982

I've come across some eclectic shortlists over the course of this project, but none more so than 1982's bunch of nominees. Usually, the larger the difference between each film, the more difficult it becomes to compare them, and while that sentiment remains true here, it was, nonetheless, relatively easy to choose my favourite.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1982 are:

• E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial
• Gandhi
• Missing
• Tootsie
• The Verdict

A science-fiction family film, a historical biopic, a political suspense drama, a legal character study and a comedy classic. A diverse group, no question. Selecting a favourite should have been complicated, yet I deliberated only briefly.

Missing was eliminated early on. Though an involving story, its overly sincere attitude gives it a conspiratorial feel. Harder to dismiss is Tootsie. Funny and poignant, it succeeds on many levels, only slightly hindered by some convenient plot points, particularly the pat conclusion.

Thus, we are left with three extremely worthy films. The least well-known of the trio, The Verdict is thoroughly engaging, containing little with which to find fault. Reluctantly, I remove it from the running for barely justifiable reasons. The Academy's choice, Gandhi, is epic yet intimate, a fascinating character study with a deservedly lauded lead performance. But my pick is the evocative and stunningly beautiful E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial. A classic loved by young and old alike, E.T. is exceptional in both its story and its technique. Cinema at its finest.

Best Picture of 1982
Academy's choice: Gandhi	Matt's choice: E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial

Your choice:

You may choose your favourite, too, by voting in the poll above. Next up, we examine a year of many classics from the 1960s.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1967 are:

• Bonnie and Clyde
• Doctor Dolittle
• The Graduate
• Guess Who's Coming to Dinner
• In the Heat of the Night

As I approach final rehearsals for The 39 Steps, there will undoubtedly be another short hiatus before the next round of reviewing begins. Stay tuned...

1982 - Gandhi

Yet again, I am writing to you from somewhere other than New York City. (Perhaps if I updated this blog more often, this wouldn't happen as frequently.) I am currently in the very sleepy town of Naples in upstate New York, rehearsing The Thirty-Nine Steps for Bristol Valley Theater. A parody of the classic Hitchcock film, the play consists of dozens and dozens of characters but only four actors - one man to play the lead, one woman to play three female characters and two other actors (referred to in the script as Clowns) who play everyone else. I have the fitness-inducing pleasure of playing one of the madcap clowns.

On a break from rehearsals, I found the time to watch the last of 1982's nominees for Best Picture...

Gandhi
Director:
Richard Attenborough
Screenplay:
John Briley
Starring:
Ben Kingsley, Candice Bergen, Edward Fox, John Gielgud, Trevor Howard, John Mills, Martin Sheen, Ian Charleson, Athol Fugard, Gunther Maria Halmer, Saeed Jaffrey, Geraldine James, Alyque Padamsee, Amrish Puri, Roshan Seth, Rohini Hattangadi
Academy Awards:
11 nominations
8 wins, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Kingsley)

Spanning more than five decades in the life of Mohandas K. Gandhi (Kingsley), the critically acclaimed biopic certainly covers a lot of ground. In South Africa at the end of the nineteenth century, the London-trained attorney-at-law experiences first-hand the discrimination rife in the British Empire. As an Indian, he was not allowed to travel first-class or even walk on the pavement. Rather than wallow in disillusionment, Gandhi leads a non-violent campaign to protest the injustices, eventually winning some concessions from the British government. Back at home in India, he begins the arduous task of gaining India's independence from Britain. Over the years, he endures several imprisonments, witnesses horrific incidents of oppression and initiates one or two hunger strikes, yet Gandhi remains steadfast in his conviction that violence is never the answer.

Despite a running time of just over three hours, Gandhi is surprisingly concise. The narrative is consistently clear and easy to follow, giving a comfortable accessibility to our protagonist's growth. As with most underdog stories, there is plenty of powerfully emotional content and our empathy for Gandhi's plight is quickly realised through several scenes depicting his or his people's oppression. The massacre scene is particularly evocative and almost difficult to watch.

One potential pitfall of presenting a story about such a revered historical figure is the temptation to depict the subject without flaws and foibles, making him seem somehow superhuman. This picture is certainly not ashamed of glorifying its subject but, thankfully, it also allows Gandhi a few moments of hotheadedness. When he loses his temper with his wife, he becomes more of a regular guy with which we can all identify, rather than just the constantly serene nothing-ever-rattles-me saint of the rest of the film. These revealing moments are perhaps too few and too brief, but they make for a fascinating study nonetheless. Mind you, from another perspective, his moral tenacity could easily be seen as another flaw. Gandhi is so dogmatic in his pacifist beliefs to the point that he almost kills himself by refusing to eat. In any other human being, such stubborn behaviour would be considered stupidity. Again, these issues only help to create a more well-rounded character on screen, far more interesting than a cut-and-dry do-gooder.

Ben Kingsley (pictured) carries the film with a powerhouse performance that earned him the Best Actor Oscar. Playing one man over the course of fifty years is never easy and Kingsley is just as believable as the 70-something Gandhi as he is as the 20-something Gandhi. He is supported by an eclectic array of talented actors, including plenty of esteemed British greats, who pop in for a scene or two - Trevor Howard, John Mills, Edward Fox, and my favourite, John Gielgud as the peevish Viceroy of India. Ian Charleson, appearing in his second consecutive Best Picture winner after 1981's Chariots of Fire, is amiably subtle as the Christian Reverend that Gandhi befriends. Not English, but also impressive are Martin Sheen, Candice Bergen and particularly Roshan Seth, expertly portraying the love and frustration that goes along with being Gandhi's close friend and political colleague. To satisfy my penchant for picking out the yet-to-be-famous actors in relatively minor roles, the film offers several instances of such - Nigel Hawthorne appears briefly; Harry Potter fans will recognise Richard Griffiths; although not immediately discernible, Daniel Day-Lewis' trademark intensity as a South African thug gives him away; and everyone's favourite mailman from Cheers, John Ratzenberger, shows up as a military driver but his voice is dubbed (by Martin Sheen, reportedly), ironic since Ratzenberger is now also very well known for his prolific voice work, mostly with Pixar.

1982 - E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial

Well, I'm back from a week in Delaware, where I was shooting Fridays, a short film that centres on an 11-year-old girl named Jenny, who, once a week, visits her terminally ill best friend in hospital. I play Jenny's concerned and protective father, David, who is somewhat unsure how to help his daughter deal with such a sobering predicament. It was quite a rewarding, if a little exhausting, shoot, and I will certainly keep you all abreast of the film's progress on the festival circuit.

Back in New York, our desktop computer has been rather uncooperative of late, shutting itself down at seemingly random moments. The obnoxious whirring noise that used to fill the room each time the computer was in operation has now entirely subsided. Thus, it seems relatively clear that we have a lazy fan unwilling to fulfil its cooling duties, thereby allowing the system to overheat and pack it in.

Miraculously, though, the computer survived long enough for me to watch the entirety of the next Best Picture contender from 1982...

E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial
Director:
Steven Spielberg
Screenplay:
Melissa Mathison
Starring:
Dee Wallace, Henry Thomas, Peter Coyote, Robert MacNaughton, Drew Barrymore
Academy Awards:
9 nominations
4 wins, including Best Original Score

After his spaceship makes an emergency take-off before he has boarded, a lonely and frightened alien is stranded in northern California. Taking shelter in a nearby backyard shed, he is soon discovered by a young boy named Elliott (Thomas), who secretly hides him in his bedroom. Elliott introduces his new friend to his older brother Michael (MacNaughton) and his younger sister Gertie (Barrymore), who begin to find ways to communicate with E.T., as they come to call him, while keeping him hidden from their mother (Wallace). As Elliott and E.T. become psychically attuned to each other's feelings, Elliott realises that E.T. pines for his own home and helps him build a communication device that will signal his people.

This is how you make a movie. The epitome of modern Hollywood, E.T. is simply captivating on almost every level and I struggle to explain why (which is horribly inconvenient since that is precisely for what this blog is intended). Despite being almost entirely wordless, the mesmerising opening sequence is crystal clear and immediately moving. It is as great an example of the cinematic style of storytelling as you are likely to find. Smartly written, beautifully shot, intricately edited.

Although I endeavour to view the original theatrical release of each nominee for the purpose of fairness, Netflix delivered the 20th anniversary edition of E.T., which includes a slightly longer cut with additional scenes and visual effects enhancements. These modern additions make for an interesting experience. On the one hand, seeing E.T. as a CGI character is a little unsettling, aware as we are that such technology was not in existence in 1982. On the other hand, it allows for a much more expressive E.T., particularly when viewed alongside the comparatively limited facial animatronics of the original. As it stands, E.T. is an immensely accessible character. One can only imagine how much more lovable he might have been were the film made today. That said, there is something mysteriously charming and perhaps nostalgic about the now seemingly primitive puppetry. These minor distractions, however, do little to disrupt the story and it all simply confirms my notion that I should always watch the original theatrical cut during this project, making such discussions moot. So, feel free to ignore this entire paragraph.

Spielberg is quite honestly at his masterful best here. In collaboration with cinematographer Allen Daviau, each shot is exquisitely composed, crafting a moody and evocative atmosphere. Toss in the delicate editing by Carol Littleton and the magical score by John Williams and the result is a masterclass in the emotionally manipulative effects of movie-making that even the best film schools would struggle to teach. Granted, there is a glossy Hollywood feeling to the picture, but it is undoubtedly intended to be a fantasy film. In that context, the pure movie magic is overwhelmingly appropriate. The important thing, however, is that it is always rooted in reality. The circumstances may be fantastical, but the characters' reactions are deeply human.

As is his wont, Spielberg assembled yet another naturally gifted cast, including many children. Carrying the film with one of cinema's most impressive child performances is Henry Thomas, finding the perfect mix of childishness and maturity. Playing the big brother, Robert MacNaughton likewise delivers a nuanced performance, mature beyond his years, while Drew Barrymore, as the young innocent sister, is impossibly cute. As the only adult face we see for the vast majority of the movie, Dee Wallace is amiable and touching. For the keen-eyed viewers, C. Thomas Howell can be seen in his big screen debut as one of Michael's friends, and also in her film debut, that's former Baywatch babe Erika Eleniak as the young girl that Elliott romances.

1982 - Tootsie

In my last post, I bemoaned the tribulations of moving house. For most, the discomfort of the move is, at least, offset by the excitement of the new surroundings. However, Kat and I have unfortunately managed to experience that discomfort with no subsequent excitement. I won't bother with the frustrating - and somewhat humiliating - details, but suffice it to say, we found ourselves involved with a rather shady real estate broker. Luckily, the ordeal ended with no monetary loss on our part, but the annoying result is that we packed everything into boxes only to unpack it all at the same apartment. Yep, we're not moving after all.

I am now currently in Delaware to shoot a short film for a week (more details at a later time) but with my one day off yesterday, I shunned the Diamond State's sights to stay in my hotel room and watch the next of 1982's Best Picture nominees...

Tootsie
Director:
Sydney Pollack
Screenplay:
Larry Gelbart, Don McGuire, Murray Schisgal
Starring:
Dustin Hoffman, Jessica Lange, Teri Garr, Dabney Coleman, Charles Durning, Bill Murray, Sydney Pollack, George Gaynes, Geena Davis
Academy Awards:
10 nominations
1 win, for Best Supporting Actress (Lange)

Michael Dorsey (Hoffman) is a struggling actor in New York City, making ends meet by teaching acting classes and working in a restaurant. His desperation is apparent on audition after audition, but his reputation as difficult to work with is perhaps his greatest barrier. Even his agent George (Pollack) has all but given up, claiming that nobody wants to hire him. Almost in defiance of his agent's words, Michael boldly transforms himself into Dorothy Michaels to audition for a female role on a popular soap opera, and winds up landing the part. Keeping up the charade is a constant battle as he begins to fall in love with his co-star Julie (Lange) who only sees him as a close girlfriend.

Tootsie is a lovable film. It is at once witty and heartwarming, the perfect balance of comedy and sentiment. Perhaps some of the farcical elements are a tad on the cheap side, but somehow the slapstick never gets in the way of the film's earnestness. The humour is always rooted in truth, so we remain invested even when Hoffman's character defends his antics on the set of a commercial in which he played a tomato by remarking, "I did an evening of vegetables on Broadway."

The cheesy theme song is a little hard to bear, but it is the 1980s, after all. Also forgivable are the somewhat unrealistic depictions of the entertainment industry. Perhaps it's just me, but after many, many years of auditioning, not once have I ever heard the producer confirm that I had the part three seconds after I finish the read. As much as I wish it did, it just doesn't happen that way. Nor would a soap opera ever decide to record an episode live to air with only half a day's notice. Logistically, that would be near impossible. In any case, the overall charm of the piece easily makes up for all of these sketchy and convenient plot points. Well, all but one. The all-important climax plays out far too quickly to be believable. Then again, considering the incredibly awkward and unforgivable situation in which our protagonist finds himself, I'm not sure there is any satisfactory way to resolve this story. At least Michael himself seems aware of the depth of his predicament when he confusingly confesses, "I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man." Funny, but not really enough to make me buy that Julie would forgive such a humiliating deception so instantaneously.

Nonetheless, despite the improbable ending, the picture is delightfully appealing. And, in a rare occurrence for a comedy, the Academy bestowed ten nominations on the film. Dustin Hoffman (pictured) received a Best Actor nod, delivering a masterfully honest performance in a role that could so easily have been played for silly laughs. Both Teri Garr and Jessica Lange garnered Best Supporting Actress citations for their respectively wacky and touching portrayals, the latter winning the prize. Bill Murray turns in yet another amusing performance full of wonderfully dry wit. Not only does Sydney Pollack helm the film with aplomb, but he also appears on screen, holding his own in several word-sparring scenes with Hoffman. In her film debut, Geena Davis is quirky and cute, and see if you can spot a pre-Golden Girls Estelle Getty in a bit part.

1982 - The Verdict

As I write this, I am surrounded by boxes and bags, full of Kat's and my belongings, in preparation for our apartment move next week. I cannot express how much I abhor moving, and yet somehow, I seem to have moved every couple of years. Interestingly, even though we are staying in the same neighbourhood - our new apartment is only about a mile away from our current one - the move from Australia to the States seemed somewhat easier. Sure, there were all sorts of administrative things to worry about then, but the actual transport of our belongings was rendered much simpler by the fact that we just bought all our furniture anew. Thus, all we really brought with us from Sydney were clothes. Now, we have a whole apartment of stuff to schlep. How did we accumulate so many things in just two years?

Next up in 1982's selection of Best Picture nominees is...

The Verdict
Director:
Sidney Lumet
Screenplay:
David Mamet
(based on the novel by Barry Reed)
Starring:
Paul Newman, Charlotte Rampling, Jack Warden, James Mason, Milo O'Shea, Lindsay Crouse
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
0 wins

Frank Galvin (Newman) is barely a lawyer and mostly an alcoholic. When he's not at the bar drinking and playing pinball, he scours for business at strangers' funerals. Yep, he's an ambulance-chaser, and he's not even very good at that. Fortunately, his friend Mickey (Warden) sets Frank up with a case he can't lose - a medical malpractice suit involving a young woman who fell into a coma. Both the hospital and the victim's family are keen to settle out of court, but Frank unexpectedly refuses the generous settlement to take the case to trial - something about "doing the right thing". With the ruthless Ed Concannon (Mason) as opposing counsel and the unsympathetic Judge Hoyle (O'Shea) presiding, Frank has his work cut out for him. Somehow, amid this incredible workload, he also manages to begin a relationship with the intelligent yet mysterious Laura Fischer (Rampling), who is not entirely who she seems.

I must admit, I do love a good Sidney Lumet film. The sadly Oscarless director was nominated for his deft hand here, another fine example of his subtle style. Nothing is ever forced down the audience's throat. On the one hand, he uses abundant wide shots, allowing us to witness the entire scene unfold. On the other hand, he lingers on simple yet meaningful looks, leaving us to solve the puzzle on our own. The credit for the effectiveness of those wordless moments must also be given to Oscar-nominated scribe David Mamet and his artfully expressive screenplay.

If I were to find fault anywhere in this fine picture, it would have to be with the initial stages of Frank's relationship with Laura. This subplot's connection to the rest of the narrative seemed somehow strained. I even pondered whether Charlotte Rampling's character was even necessary at all. Until, of course, the twist that makes Laura's existence in the story abundantly clear. Only then does she become a truly fascinating study. Perhaps part of the problem early on is that unusually grave and overly dramatic score underneath the scenes between Frank and Laura. So much like a horror movie score, in fact, that I almost expected Laura to peel off her face and reveal an alien underneath.

In any case, that's a relatively minor issue in what is honestly an excellent film. Paul Newman (pictured) carries the film superbly with a reflective and sensitive (and Oscar-nominated) performance. The ever watchable James Mason also garnered a nomination for himself delivering a delightfully restrained portrayal of an obstinately driven lawyer. Rounding out the cast are Charlotte Rampling, Jack Warden and Milo O'Shea, each with exceptional performances. And keen-eyed viewers will spot a pre-stardom Bruce Willis appearing as an extra in the final courtroom scene.

1982 - Missing

Our friends at the Academy have announced a change to the recently-adopted rule concerning the number of nominees for Best Picture. After only two years of a ten-horse race, next year's shortlist will consist of anywhere between five and ten nominees, depending on how many films receive the requisite five percent of first-place votes during the nominating procedure. After studying the hypothetical results that this method would have produced in the past decade, it appears we may consistently have seen greater than five nominees, but fewer than ten. In other words, forcing only five nominees sometimes may have left some worthy films by the wayside, yet making it compulsory to cite ten films for the top award may have allowed one or two less than stellar pictures to sneak in.

Undoubtedly, this new change will have its critics. Some will certainly say that the Academy is changing its rules too often. Indeed, it seems plausible that this announcement is in response to criticism of its move to ten nominees two years ago. However, for me, at the risk of once again sounding like an Academy lackey, I'm going to put my hand up in support of this development. Each year presents us with a different number of excellent films, so it makes sense not to constrict the number of nominees. In that context, this approach seems the most appropriate way to gauge Academy members' opinions.

Meanwhile, we kick off our review of 1982's nominees for Best Picture with a look at...

Missing
Director:
Costa-Gavras
Screenplay:
Costa-Gavras & Donald Stewart
(based on the book by Thomas Hauser)
Starring:
Jack Lemmon, Sissy Spacek, Melanie Mayron, John Shea, Charles Cioffi, David Clennon
Academy Awards:
4 nominations
1 win, for Best Adapted Screenplay

Beth (Spacek) and Charlie (Shea) are living in a politically volatile South American country when things get shaky. With a curfew in place, Beth is unable to get back home from visiting friends when she misses the last bus. The next morning, she arrives home to an empty house and her neighbour tells her that Charlie was arrested yesterday by the country's military officers. Attempts at some answers from the U.S. Consulate prove fruitless and soon Beth is joined by her father-in-law Ed (Lemmon) who has travelled from New York to help find his son. A conservative man with little respect for his son's leftist leanings, Ed initially rubs Beth the wrong way. But the two must learn to work together to unravel the mystery of exactly what happened to Charlie.

Even before the mystery of Charlie's disappearance becomes the focus, Missing's opening act is somewhat mysterious itself. As a result of the filmmakers' attempts at avoiding explicit references to certain real-life people and places, I found myself a little confused as to where exactly the film was set and, more importantly, why on earth the protagonists were there in the first place. Perhaps it is my lack of knowledge on South American history, for only a very small amount of research is needed to discover that the film's location is Chile during the coup d'etat of 1973.

There is an overt sincerity to this picture, right from the opening caption and accompanying narration that espouses its basis on documented fact. Declassified documents released well after the film was made seem to indicate that the U.S. government did actually have some involvement in the Chilean coup and yet, the film's sincerity still resembles the ramblings of a conspiracy theorist. Most, if not all, the government types are painted as corrupt and they are alleged to be complicit in Charlie's disappearance after he learns too much about the U.S. military's presence in the region. These details may indeed be accurate - my admittedly limited research revealed some compelling yet inconclusive circumstantial evidence - but, either way, the characters are a tad too black-and-white for my liking. Despite some superficial dialogue, the intense subject matter and the captivating suspense keep the narrative dangerously engaging. A little anti-climactic, perhaps, but the Academy saw fit to bestow a Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar on the film.

Missing also boasts a superb cast. Sissy Spacek and Jack Lemmon (pictured) work extremely well together, resulting in them both being nominated for lead Oscars. Then, there is the cornucopia of well-known faces from television. As the subject of the film's title, John Shea (known to Lois & Clark fans as Lex Luthor) is charming and passionate. Melanie Mayron (an Emmy winner for thirtysomething) plays the inquisitive and supportive friend. Joe Regalbuto (famed as Frank Fontana in Murphy Brown) portrays another victim of the new regime. Finally, Jerry Hardin (known for his role as Deep Throat in the definitely conspiratorial-themed The X-Files) appears as a U.S. Army Colonel.

Best Picture of 1948

Yet another genuinely difficult decision has befallen me. Although these pictures explore different themes, they are surprisingly similar in genre. Along with their evenly matched quality, the task of separating them is by no means an easy one.

The nominees for Best Picture of 1948 are:

• Hamlet
• Johnny Belinda
• The Red Shoes
• The Snake Pit
• The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

Five excellent films, each full of passion and intensity, covering a range of thought-provoking material. From greed and ambition to depression and mental illness, 1948's shortlist is one of the more contemplative the Academy has seen. Without exception, each nominee could easily be described as a psychological study.

Due to this abundance of stimulating cinema, I simply cannot bring myself to name one - let alone two or three - as specifically inferior. Yet, my task is to single out one film as my favourite. Thus, for purely finicky reasons, I will eliminate The Snake Pit first, though there is no meaningful order to this culling. Despite its well-researched depiction of the then current state of mental institutions, its happy ending betrays some medical inconsistencies. Continuing with the hairsplitting, I will also release The Red Shoes from the competition. With an incredibly engaging story and an incredibly engaging ballet sequence, these two components didn't quite mesh perfectly. Also out of the running is Johnny Belinda for ... well, I can't even think of a legitimate reason. It's a well-crafted and entertaining picture that perhaps only suffers from being too pleasant.

Two classics remain. Hamlet and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Since my system for this verdict has been to quibble about relatively minor details, I'll rule against the latter for the too swift transition from sane to paranoid that Bogie's character experiences. Consequently, I am siding with the Academy once more in declaring Laurence Olivier's inventive and accessible adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet as my favourite Best Picture nominee from 1948.

Best Picture of 1948
Academy's choice: Hamlet	Matt's choice: Hamlet

Your choice:

As usual, your vote can be registered by using the poll above. Next up, we move to the 1980s for a particularly eclectic bunch of movies.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1982 are:

• E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial
• Gandhi
• Missing
• Tootsie
• The Verdict

Stay tuned...

1948 - Johnny Belinda

Last chance to vote on the year that Matt vs. the Academy tackles next. It's still a close race, so make sure you have your input using the poll on the right hand side of the screen.

The final nominee from our look at 1948's Best Picture contenders is...

Johnny Belinda
Director:
Jean Negulesco
Screenplay:
Irma von Cube and Allen Vincent
(based on the play by Elmer Harris)
Starring:
Jane Wyman, Lew Ayres, Charles Bickford, Agnes Moorehead, Stephen McNally, Jan Sterling
Academy Awards:
12 nominations
1 win, for Best Actress (Wyman)

A deaf-mute since she was a baby, Belinda McDonald (Wyman) seems content performing menial tasks for her father Black (Bickford) and aunt Aggie (Moorehead) on the family farm in Nova Scotia. Known as "The Dummy" by the less polite members of the community, Belinda is not considered to ever be able to contribute intelligently to society. Not even her own family gives her any credit... Until the new town physician, Dr. Richardson (Ayres), takes it upon himself to teach the outcast sign language. As Belinda learns to communicate with those around her, she and the kindly doctor must deal with the ugly rumour mill and the town bully, Locky McCormick (McNally).

Johnny Belinda is a relatively simple story well told. With its straightforward and engaging narrative, the picture is a generally pleasant movie experience. A solid script with solid performances, it is genuinely difficult to find much fault here beyond a questionable legal precedent and a ridiculously fake performance by the town violinist (repeatedly tapping the bow on the strings is not how you play the violin).

It perhaps falls short of being a brilliant film - although I'd be hard-pressed to explain why - but it is absorbing in exactly the way good movies should be. Perhaps in support of its general appeal is the fact that the film was nominated in almost every category at the 1948 Academy Awards, twelve citations in all. However, its only success was for Jane Wyman's accomplished performance as the amiable deaf girl. While her character's gentle demeanour - with that ever-so-subtle hint of a smile - may seem like a simple portrayal, any actor worth his salt will tell you that listening is of the utmost importance. And Wyman (pictured) places her attention on her surroundings and her fellow actors with acute earnestness. Although, I suppose her task was made easier since she had no lines to remember. Either way, it makes for a captivating performance.

Along with Wyman's Best Actress win, three other cast members received nominations, allowing Johnny Belinda to join an elite group of pictures boasting a nomination in each of the four acting categories. Lew Ayres rightly received a Best Actor nod for his affable turn as the compassionate doctor. And both Charles Bickford and Agnes Moorehead (known to TV audiences as Endora from Bewitched) collected Supporting nominations.

1948 - The Red Shoes

My bruised rib and I are back in New York City once more. While it continues to heal, I have already started rehearsing for another show - another fast-paced, energetic production rife with rib-bruising opportunities. Performing as part of the NY Comic Book Theater Festival, Batz follows a bunch of nerdy office workers as they pay homage to the Dark Knight by re-enacting classic Batman comics using only office supplies for props and costumes.

After a short hiatus, I continued yesterday with my review of 1948's nominees for Best Picture by watching...

The Red Shoes
Directors:
Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger
Screenplay:
Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger and Keith Winter
(based on the fairy tale by Hans Christian Anderson)
Starring:
Moira Shearer, Marius Goring, Anton Walbrook, Leonide Massine, Robert Helpmann, Albert Bassermann, Esmond Knight, Ludmilla Tcherina
Academy Awards:
5 nominations
2 wins, for Best Art Direction and Best Original Score

Before Black Swan grabbed the tragic ballerina mantle, there was The Red Shoes. This much-revered classic of British cinema centres on the Ballet Lermontov, a touring company headed by perfectionist taskmaster Boris Lermontov (Walbrook). New to the company are Vicky Page (Shearer), an up-and-coming ballerina with an innate love of dance, and Julian Craster (Goring), a budding young composer hired as the orchestral coach. Soon, Julian is entrusted with composing the score for a new ballet based on the tragic story The Red Shoes, which will see Vicky dance the leading role. When Vicky and Julian fall in love, Boris is furiously opposed to the affair, believing romance to be a fatal distraction for any artist.

With its spectacular design and cinematography, The Red Shoes is visually stunning. The vibrant colours are particularly striking for a film of this vintage. As a film about ballet, it unsurprisingly also features a great deal of delightful music and dancing, including an elongated sequence that presents an actual staged ballet, which brings us to the subject that will occupy the majority of this review.

Now, I'm by no means a ballet fan, but it's hard to deny that the presentation of The Red Shoes as a ballet is simply exquisite. Extravagant and innovative, it utilises creative special effects along with accomplished choreography to produce a truly magical experience. Gratuitous, but magical nonetheless. Undoubtedly, this picture paved the way for the final dance sequence in An American In Paris three years later, a similarly spectacular yet gratuitous display.

The problem, if you can even call it a problem, is mostly due to the way in which this sequence oddly disassociates itself with reality. As visually pleasing as the cinematic effects are, they push the film into surreal territory by presenting instantaneous costume changes on stage and stunning visions of beach scenes superimposed over the audience. On their own, these events add to the magic of the sequence, but in the context of a live staged performance, they are a little confusing. Yet, we don't appear to be in the world of The Red Shoes, either, since Vicky experiences hallucinatory visions during the performance of Craster and Boris, who are clearly not characters within the narrative of the fairy tale. So, are we in the world of the fairy tale or the world of the Ballet Lermontov? The answer seems to be "neither".

Once the ballet sequence has concluded, the story kicks into gear becoming especially engaging. The stakes are high and the characters are forced to make gravely important decisions about art and love. Particularly compelling is Boris' internal struggle. His passion for Vicky and her potential is most probably merely that of a mentor, but it could perhaps also be interpreted as unrequited love. No doubt, my fascination with this character was influenced by Anton Walbrook's passionate and nuanced performance. While Moira Shearer (pictured) is sweet and delectable as the prima ballerina, for me, it is Walbrook that steals the film.

I am left in two minds about The Red Shoes. I genuinely enjoyed both the magical ballet sequence and the intriguing narrative. Considered separately, they are equally engrossing, yet somehow, they don't quite fit together perfectly.

(For an interesting perspective on the similarities between The Red Shoes and Black Swan - apart from the similar publicity shots - check out Andrew O'Rourke's article on The Playground.)

1948 - Hamlet

Matt's tip of the day: Don't ever get a bruised rib. It hurts to cough. It hurts to sneeze. It hurts to go from lying down to sitting up. It just hurts. And it's not really worth the three seconds of laughter that you might get from an audience who witness your pratfall.

Since rest is pretty much the only suggested remedy for a bruised rib, last night I rested as I watched the victor among 1948's Best Picture contenders...

Hamlet
Director:
Laurence Olivier
Screenplay:
Laurence Olivier
(based on the play by William Shakespeare)
Starring:
Laurence Olivier, Basil Sydney, Eileen Herlie, Jean Simmons, Norman Wooland, Felix Aylmer, Terence Morgan
Academy Awards:
7 nominations
4 wins, including Best Picture and Best Actor (Olivier)

Laurence Olivier's iconic adaptation of Shakespeare's most famous work, Hamlet centres on that angst-ridden prince of Denmark with the funny name. Hamlet (Olivier) is depressed. His father is dead, murdered by his uncle Claudius (Sydney) in order to take the throne. To make matters worse, Claudius, now the King, married Hamlet's grieving mother, Gertrude (Herlie). When a troop of travelling actors come to town, Hamlet has the ingenious idea of pushing Claudius' buttons by orchestrating a play that exactly mirrors the new King's murderous act. Meanwhile, the object of his affection, Ophelia (Simmons), is slowly going mad. And, like any good Shakespearean tragedy, by the story's conclusion, almost everyone is dead.

I still vividly remember the moment of clarity I experienced the first time I saw Olivier's masterpiece. It may well have been the first time I truly understood Hamlet, or possibly any of Shakespeare's plays. Olivier (along with his outstanding cast) is extremely adept at making accessible Shakespeare's poetically complicated language. Granted, in order to achieve simplicity, he had to excise a few characters along with a sizable chunk of the dialogue, but what remains is the essence of Hamlet's psychological drama.

As director, Olivier utilises his medium with ingenuity. Acknowledging that a screen adaptation can allow for presentation techniques not available to a stage production, the picture features several innovative elements. For instance, as the Ghost of Hamlet's father narrates the true details of his death, we are shown a re-enactment of the event. Also, some of Hamlet's intimate soliloquies are only heard through voice over, as if the audience is directly listening to his inner-most thoughts. This particularly seems like an appropriate manifestation of Shakespeare's intent, perfectly achieving that insight into the character's internal contemplations.

If unfamiliar with Shakespeare, you may be surprised as to how many Shakespearean phrases you already know. Hamlet, in particular, is incredibly quotable. I began to count all the well-known lines but quickly realised there are far too many. Not to mention the proverbs that Shakespeare coined - "brevity is the soul of wit," "the play's the thing," and "neither a borrower nor a lender be."

Adding to the film's comprehension are the superb performances by the cast. Directing himself to a Best Actor Oscar, Olivier (pictured, with Yorick) displays a natural intensity and commitment to the role of Hamlet. He also displays amazing proficiency with the sword during a very impressive duel with Terence Morgan as Laertes. Basil Sydney is brilliantly detestable as Claudius and Eileen Herlie's portrayal of the Queen is gentle and sorrowful. But the only other acting nomination went to Jean Simmons, recognised in the Supporting Actress category for her turn as the unbalanced Ophelia. As the Gravedigger, that's Stanley Holloway (a few years before he immortalised the role of Alfred Doolittle) delivering a witty performance. Delightful as Osric is Peter Cushing, perhaps better known from his Hammer Horror appearances, as well as Star Wars. And for Doctor Who fans, if Cushing's non-canonical portrayal of the Doctor isn't good enough, that's the second Doctor, Patrick Troughton as the Player King.